Title: Fireworks
Author: Emmylou
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters and concepts, are the creation of JK Rowling.
Rating: PG
Summary: Angelina and Fred's relationship is tested when they travel to Egypt on business for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
A/N: Thanks to all my loyal reviewers and to those that have joined us recently.
ooo
It had been very hard to get away from the crowds. No one knew who she was and that made her interesting. A mystery girl had beaten a seasoned player and everyone wanted to be a part of it.
Fred had beaten his way through the crowd almost as soon as she had reached the ground. In her arms was a large bag of gold and her broomstick that The Grandfather had ordered to be returned to her.
"You did it!" bellowed Fred over the noise. "Angel – you did it!"
He threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned as people snapped photographs of her overwhelmed face.
"You'll be in the papers tomorrow!" he shouted again. "That'll be one to cut out and keep!"
"I'll send a copy to Robin bloody Sparrow at the Quidditch Council too!" she yelled back.
She was finally steered back to the Donkor family where Mr. and Mrs. Donkor looked delighted. The brother with ten Galleons on Killistine looked rather sulky.
Angelina was thoroughly hugged by Mrs. Donkor, who seemed to have forgotten that Angelina couldn't speak her language and was babbling into her shoulder. Donkor clapped her on the back, and the two brothers (one rather stiffly) offered deep congratulations.
Angelina turned to peer back at the platform high above them. The Grandfather and Granddaughter were gone.
ooo
News of her win seemed to buzz ahead of them as they walked back to the Donkor home. People cheered over balconies at her, and waved flags that they seemed to have forgotten didn't have her face on it.
She still had her money in her arms, a thousand Galleons. That sort of money could set someone up for life. If what Fred told her about Harry Potter was true it had set him and his brother up for life.
Donkor and his brothers seemed to have drunk a good deal more than they ought on the way home. By the time they reached the house and Donkor started fumbling with the lock they were joyously singing a song that wasn't English and certainly didn't seem polite. Mrs. Donkor seemed to have had a few because she was laughing hard and scoffing the last of her stuffed dates.
"What are they singing?" asked Fred. His arm was still round Angelina's shoulders and was wonderful in the cool night air.
Mrs. Donkor let out a peal of giggles. "It's about Wizards' staffs!"
Donkor pushed the door open and the group piled in. Angelina almost tripped over and was hastily caught by Fred. There was a moment of fumbling and the lamps blared.
Pictures and mirrors hung crooked on the walls, a bookcase had been overturned and Angelina looked down to see she has tripped over one of the discarded books. The carpets had been ripped up.
"Pili!" bellowed Donkor, who suddenly sounded terrified.
Angelina could see his relief when he heard the clattering of footsteps and Pili stumbled into the room, smoothing down her robes.
"Yes father?" she began, and then got a good look around the room. "Wh-what happened?"
The relief on her father's face was gone, now Donkor looked upon his daughter with fury.
"Where were you?" he roared. "You were not to leave the house! You are never to leave the house when no one else is here!"
"I was-" she stammered. "I was-"
"They were clearly thieves employed to get the plans of our latest work. Spies are all around us!" continued Donkor. "You alone have destroyed Weezley's trust in us before we even begin to trade!"
"I'm sorry!" wailed Pili.
Fred looked at the poor girl uncomfortably. "Er, don't cry, there's still trust…"
"Where were you?" Donkor bellowed again.
A young man stepped out of the doorway behind Pili and took her shoulder. She jumped in shock. The man was tall and gangly, his tea-towel hat askew.
"She was with me," said Konzo.
"It would be best if you and your lady go upstairs now, Mr. Weezley," said Donkor. His voice was carefully controlled and he was swaying with anger and mostly with alcohol.
Fred and Angelina, recognising a domestic disturbance in the making, legged it.
ooo
"They only went off on one date," said Angelina. She and Fred squeezed along the corridor to their room. "It's not very fair for them."
"Well, if we've lost the plans for the firework, it'll set us back even further," said Fred. He bent and picked up a large fern plant the thieves had knocked over.
"But still, she wasn't to know that there would be a robbery," said Angelina. "And it's not like she seems to get much time for boys."
Fred shrugged. "We-ell, if she wants to snog a blind firework maker, that's her business, seems a bit risky to me. I just hope she hasn't lost us our work."
Angelina opened the door gingerly. Draws were strewn across the room, clothes and laundry had been dragged from their trunks and Angelina's make-up had been swept off the dresser. The little coloured bottles of perfume had smashed on the ground and the sickly smell of mixed perfume rose up from the carpet.
"No rescuing those," she said sadly. "I might have been able to use a spell if it was just one, but all the perfumes mixed now."
Fred rooted through the clothes until he found his pyjama top half way under the bed.
"Ah-ha! They didn't find my plans!" he shouted triumphantly. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a wad of parchment.
"You keep them in the pocket?" she asked bemusedly. "What happens when they get washed?"
Fred looked at her blankly and she remembered that laundry was something that happened to other people in Fred's world.
He waited for that to sink in and grinned. "Had you going there, I put a waterproofing spell on them."
Angelina snorted and reached for one of the drawers. She dumped her bag of money into it and slid it back into the dresser. Fred had pulled on his pyjama top and was peering out the window.
"They're not chanting your name anymore," he said sadly. "They're chanting the Granddaughter's. You won."
Angelina smiled softly and pulled on her own nightie. "Anyone can win a flying tournament. She makes it. It must be like being the goddess of flying."
"I weren't half scared when he knocked you off your broom," said Fred suddenly.
Angelina looked up from where she was making a half-hearted attempt to tidy the room.
"I know, even I thought that I'd wasted my money with a long term investment plan at Gringotts for a moment."
He chuffed with laughter for a moment and the tension seemed to leak away.
"And I won," she continued. "It's not as good as having my name cleared, but it's something."
Fred glanced towards the drawer. "It's one thousand somethings," he said. "What are you going to do with it?"
Angelina slid under the sheets and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I dunno, it's a lot of money."
"I did mention I love you, right?" asked Fred. Angelina giggled and whacked his arm as he climbed in next to her.
"I suppose you could open another shop with it – the Weasley family (at least, the twin part of it) could begin it's plans to take over the magical world. You'd make loads if you opened up in America."
Fred wrinkled his nose. "That's so sensible!"
Angelina looked at him hardly. "Fred Weasley turning down business?"
"Yes!" he said. Then paused. "Unless by 'business' you mean 'sex'. We're going to open more shops anyway. You won this money and if you don't blow it on something daft like ten thousand Chocolate Frogs, then you don't deserve to have it."
Angelina reached over and kissed him thoroughly. "That's my Fred. I thought I'd lost you for a while back there."
"Once again, I make it very clear, I'm not turning down that kind of business," he said breathlessly.
She whacked his arm again and they sunk back into their pillows.
"We could go on holiday," she suggested.
"With a thousand Galleons?" snorted Fred. "It would have to be one hell of a trip to spend all that. Besides, haven't you resolved to start work in two weeks?"
Angelina bit her lip. It was difficult imagining that soon she'd be back in England with her whole boring, broomstick-less life ahead of her.
"We could buy a house?" she suggested weakly. "A house abroad. That way it's always there when we do want it."
"Yeah…" said Fred. "They sell holiday homes that disappear in one country and re-appear in another, so you're not tied down to one country. A holiday pad. Fantastic!"
"Home. A holiday home," she yawned. "One pad is more than enough."
Fred kissed her and she was in no rush to let him stop.
ooo
Despite the rift healed between Fred and Angelina the table was practically icing over when they came to breakfast that morning.
"I'm sure Konzo will be pleased to know that none of our plans have been disturbed," said Donkor to the table at large but in that special tone that made it clear he was talking entirely to Pili.
Pili stared miserably into her porridge from her seat in between her uncles as sharp comments were made around her.
Angelina tried to offer her a sympathetic smile, but the girl stared resolutely into the oats.
"Fortunately my elderly father was not disturbed in the robbery," said Donkor, with another snide glance at Pili.
He turned to Fred with the least nasty look he seemed able to muster.
"I have told my father of the many great things you and your brother do for our business," said Donkor. "He has offered for you to join him for lunch in his room. He is eager to meet the foreign girl who won The Granddaughter too." Donkor bowed his head respectfully to Angelina.
Out of the corner of her eye, Angelina saw Pili look up and smile at her, before tilting her head back down to her meal.
Fred seemed genuinely honoured.
"We'll be there with bells on," he said, which was about as respectful as Fred got.
ooo
Anyone who's read a Discworld book will probably recognise the song Donkor and his brothers were singing. For propriety I will not share the title here, but if you do know the title…well…you get the know-it-all of the year award.
More will be coming soon, I promise. In the mean time, I'd love to know what you think!